Flak the Hedgehog
by Starscream089
Summary: No pairings in this one, because pairings are dumb. This story is about tanks, machine guns, and a porcu…er…hedgehog with various superpowers. Rated for excessive tanking.
1. Chapter 1

Sonic the Hedgehog sped down Station Square like a blue meteor as he headed toward the train station. He had found the key at last. All he had to do was plug it into the slot at the mystic ruins, and he would have access to Windy Valley.

"Almost there." He said to himself as he rounded a corner.

Sonic skidded to an abrupt halt as a panzer tank plowed through a building ahead of him and rolled out onto the street. The vehicle turned on its caterpillar tracks and headed straight toward him as Sonic stared at it with startled bewilderment. His body tensed for action, the tips of his light-speed sneakers digging into the pavement as he crouched down. Was this another of Eggman's ploys? The tank rolled to a stop, and a hatch opened at the top.

A green skinned hedgehog with a bazooka strapped over one shoulder peeked down the barrel of the tank's seventy-five millimeter gun.

"Oh, sorry. Kinda hard to see in this thing."

Sonic pushed a hand through his quills. "Uh, no problem…Who are you?"

The green hedgehog rested an arm on the side of the cupola. "I'm Flak. Flak the Hedgehog. You?"

"Sonic. Sonic…the Hedgehog."

Flak nodded with a quick half-smile. "Cool. Nice to meet you."

Sonic jabbed his thumb in the direction of the station. "I'm, uh, heading down to the mystic ruins. You wanna come?"

Flak shook his head. "No way. I'm off to the beach to go blast things with E-102 Gamma." There was a brief silence.

Sonic blinked. "What? Who?" But his voice was lost as the vehicle's engine suddenly ceased idling.

"Well, see you around." Flak saluted. The hatch closed. Then it opened again. "Oh, and could you move? Thanks." The engine roared as the tank lurched forward, crushing cars and flattening streetlights as it rolled down the road.

* * *

"Listen, Flak. There's something we need to go over." Sonic sighed over a french fry.

He looked sidelong at Tails, who avoided his glance and continued to munch on a hamburger.

Amy looked on from across the table, concern evident on her face as she nibbled an apple slice.

"Look," Sonic continued. "All I'm saying is that this is serious business. Are you sure you want to join us? Are you even qualified?"

Flak looked up from his fingers. "Are you kidding? That's easy. I'm a blast-a-holic with an aim to match. I can turn invisible at will and only cost two Psi to support. And I'm a hedgehog, geez."

Sonic finished another fry. "And that's another thing. You do kinda look like Manic."

Flak leaned back in his chair. "Bah. We're nothing alike. I have a rocket launcher. He doesn't." He jerked a thumb behind him, where a Panzerkampfwagen V waited in the parking lot. "I also have a tank. He doesn-"

"Right, yeah." Sonic interrupted. "And I think you're triple-parked. Over some cars."

Flak shrugged, taking a sip from his soda. "I'm not. That would be illegal."

"Anyway," Sonic resumed. "Is any of that actually true? About turning invisible and…um…something about 'sigh'?"

Flak scratched an ear, considering. "Mostly no. But I do have a tank."

Tails swallowed a bite of hamburger. "Where did you get a tank from, anyway?" He asked, venturing a look out the window.

"I inherited it from my father." Flak replied.

"You have parents?" Amy interjected suddenly. Tails rolled his eyes, but Flak shook his head.

"Not anymore." They stared at him quizzically.

"It's like this." He explained. "My father made tanks, and my mother made machine guns. Violent group."

Amy's eyes were full of sympathy. "What happened?"

Flak looked away. "They were killed." He said quietly. "By each other."

Amy blinked, not sure how to react. "Oh." There was another silence.

"Yup." Flak popped another fry into his mouth. "It was an accident, I think. Oh, and another thing…I lied. I'm a porcupine."

Sonic pulled his face away from his hands. "Okay, Flak. Whatever. You're in."

Flak pumped an arm. "Yes!"

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_This piece isn't supposed to make sense. Sensibility is the product of an inconsequential human explanation for the unlikelihood of the world around them. Plus, Panzers are just plain cool. Swords are cool, too, but they aren't in this story anymore._

_Oh yeah, Flak now carries a Panzerfaust instead of a sword. A minor change. I thought it fit him better._


	2. Chapter 2

Flak the Porcupine leaned back in the driver's seat, idly flicking gears and switches within the dimly lit interior of his Panzer tank. Throttle. Ka-chunk. The vehicle ground to a halt among a small grove of trees amidst a deserted clearing. Ignition. Clunk. The noise and vibration of the powerful V-12 engine sputtered and faded into an eerie silence. Floodlights. Click. The vague illumination pervading the cramped cockpit winked out obediently, leaving him in pitch darkness. Flak crossed his arms over his chest, exhaling softly as he reclined in his chair. A nice chair, he thought. Had been specially designed by his father, Blitz, for yet another of his custom projects. "A good captain is only as comfortable as his command chair," he had said. Flak didn't know whether that was true or not, but had always liked that phrase.

Now, it only brought back memories of another life, another world.

Flak closed his eyes with a sigh. A long time ago, that was. His thoughts drifted away, toward another time, another place.

* * *

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Wincing, a young porcupine looked up from the seventy-five millimeter shell case he was cleaning. A small pile of its cousins lay around him, their broad burnished surfaces glowing dully amidst the surrounding mass of steel parts, greasy tools, and heavy machinery.

BAM! BAM!

"Hey, dad?" He called out when the noise halted momentarily.

BAM!

"Dad?"

BAM!

A large, powerfully built porcupine holding a rivet gun turned away from his work and pulled a pair of pilot's goggles from his face. "Yeah? What is it, Flak?"

The young porcupine fidgeted with his rag. "Can I go outside, now?"

Blitz cleaned his goggles on his shirt. "Are you all done with that batch?"

Flak nodded vigorously. "Yup."

His father ambled over. "Well, let's see what'cha got."

Blitz looked them over expertly, running his fingers along the metal surfaces with practiced care. "Well, they're still a little rough yet, but I guess that'll do."

Flak jumped up. "Yeah!"

Blitz caught his arm. "Now hold on there, youngster. I'll need you for just a second more."

His son sighed. "Okay."

Blitz led him away to where a massive fifty-ton tank waited beside his work bench.

"There it is, my boy," he said proudly. "a top of the line Panzer Five, Mark Two. Custom built, with all the options. Double torsion bar suspension, interleaved road wheels…even got smoke launchers in the back. Whaddya think, son?"

Flak shrugged with a half smile. "Yeah, it's pretty cool. But it still needs another plate on the side. Doesn't it, dad?"

His father grinned. "That's my boy. And right you are, that's the last piece."

Blitz hoisted his son up onto the wheel guard, who scrambled up the rest of the way with a youthful enthusiasm that he knew he couldn't match anymore. Blitz climbed after him with his rivet gun in hand.

"All right, help me hold this thing in place." Flak obediently placed his hands against the steel plate. "A little harder," his father instructed. "That's it."

BAM!

"Gah!" Flak flinched, abruptly pulling away.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Blitz asked, concern etched on his features.

The young porcupine looked up sheepishly. "It hurts my ears."

His father laughed. "Oh, come on, you big sissy!" Blitz clapped his son upon the shoulder. "Oh, it's all right. I know you'll make me proud someday. That's all I needed you for, anyway. Go see if your mother needs anything, and you're free to go."

Flak beamed happily. "All right!" He hopped down to the ground. "See you later, dad!"

* * *

POW! POW! POWPOWPOWPOWPOWPOW! POWPOWPOWPOW!

Flak groaned, clapping his hands over his ears as he entered the firing range. His mother stood before him, wielding a 7.92 caliber machine gun. The weapon thundered like a fireworks show gone mad as it ventilated a cloth dummy at the far side of the room.

POWPOWPOWPOW! POWPOWPOWPOWPOWPOW!

Flak watched the tracer rounds flash forth from the weapon's muzzle, spearing across the distance like laser beams in a sci-fi movie.

"Mom!" Flak hollered above the din. "Mom!"

POWPOW! POWPOWPOWPOWPOWPOW! PING!

"Hiya hon," Shrapnel smiled at her son as she loaded another ammunition belt. "What'cha need?"

Flak blinked the stars out of his eyes as he released his head. "I'm all done helping dad. He told me to see if you needed any help before I go play."

His mother ruffled his quills affectionately. "Nah, I don't need anything, sweetheart. Now be good, and stay out of trouble."

Flak saluted smartly. "Yes, mom!"

* * *

It was some time later when the entire complex went up in a raging hell of flames that could be seen for miles.

Flak watched the blaze from a distance, disbelief mingling with dread as he watched his world burn.

He had stumbled into the ruins later that night in a heavy downpour, when the flames had subsided at last. He had searched. Oh, how he had searched, calling for his parents as the rain came down in torrents. But the dull rumble of thunder drowned out his voice, and no one answered his cries. He came at length to the smoldering remains of his father's workshop, where the hulking shape of his father's battle tank waited. It had been their last project together. Now, it was all that remained of the only life he had ever known.

Flak turned his attention to the supply vaults, laboriously filling the vehicle's fuel reservoir and loading as many tank rounds as his small arms would allow. He also took his mother's favorite rocket launcher.

He sat within the cramped interior of the cockpit, staring blankly at the darkness beyond. So this was it. This was goodbye. A flash of lightning illuminated the outside scene of destruction beyond his cockpit window. It was all gone.

His father's goggles hung suspended above him, swaying silently as the rain pounded down outside. Flak lifted them from their hook and pulled them over his own forehead.

_I will make you proud, dad. I promise. And don't worry about me, mom. I'll be okay._

Flak turned the ignition. There was nothing here for him now. The tank and its sole passenger rumbled away into the night, never to return.

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_ Well, that's chapter two. And thus Flak sets out into the wide world, armed with new resolve, inner strength, and a tank. _


End file.
